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It would have been as easy to make away with twenty thousand dollars as with three thousand, and the penalty would not have been greater. "Kind of a childish sum," said Scattergood to himself. "'Tain't wuth bustin' up a life over not three thousand.... Calc'late Ovid hain't bad not at a figger of three thousand. Jest a dum fool him and his tailor-made clothes...."
We have most of us read of such frightful visitations in Thucydides, in Ovid, in Virgil, in Lucretius, not to mention the moderns; but if any of us were to write down the sum and substance of his knowledge, and attempt to discover from any trustworthy evidence the nature, the course, and the intensity of any great plague that has ever proved a real scourge upon any large section of the human race, what would his summing-up amount to?
But Carmina had something to say to him and Carmina spoke first. "Has Miss Minerva been your mother's governess for a long time?" she inquired. "For some years," Ovid replied. "Will you let me put a question on my side? Why do you ask?" Carmina hesitated and answered in a whisper, "She looks ill-tempered." "She is ill-tempered," Ovid confessed.
In the autumn before his banishment Ovid had given out one or two preliminary copies of his Metamorphoses, and his friends now insisted that a work so full of charm, so characteristic of his best powers, so innocent of questionable material should be published, even if it had not undergone a final revision.
Is there something wicked in my nature? I do believe she feels in the same way towards me. Yes; I dare say it's imagination, but it's as bad as reality for all that. Oh, I am sure you are right she does want to keep Ovid out of my way!" "Because she doesn't like you?" said Miss Minerva. "Is that the only reason you can think of?" "What other reason can there be?"
Inspired partly by that writer, and partly by Ovid, it was the aim of Lorris to produce an Art of Love, brought up to date, and adapted to the tastes of his aristocratic audience, with all the elaborate paraphernalia of learned disquisition and formal gallantry which was then the mode.
And at such times my father almost ran as he passed the door of the infant school and thought of the follies which were being committed within. "Samplers," he was wont to mutter, "samplers when they might be at their Ovid!" My mother Gracie Lyon that was had none of the stern blood of her Cameronian forebears, nor yet my father's tempestuous Norland mood. It is like velvet!"
"Rather a sudden change of opinion," Mrs. Gallilee remarked. Ovid coolly agreed with her. It was rather sudden, he said. The governess still looked at him, wondering whether he would provoke an outbreak. After a little pause, Mrs. Gallilee accepted her son's short answer with a sudden submission which had a meaning of its own.
The three poems that bear the title of A. Sabini Epistolae, and are often bound with Ovid's works, are the production of an Italian scholar of the fifteenth century. TUTICANUS, who was born in the same year with Ovid, and may perhaps have been the author of Tibullus's third book, is included in the last epistle from Pontus among epic bards.
Domenico, besides, remembered that Virgil and Ovid, whom he had not read, but whose fables he had sometimes been asked to illustrate, were constantly talking of visions of gods and goddesses, nay, of their descending upon earth to unite themselves with mortals in love or friendship, for he had had to furnish designs for woodcuts representing Diana and Endymion, Jupiter and Ganymede, the gods coming to Philemon and Baucis, and Apollo tending the herds of Admetus.
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